The Lord of the Clans
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Captured by a rival clan, Ariana is chained to a wall and about to be tortured. The Four Kingdoms aren't safe anymore. As if crossing dangerous territories wasn't bad enough, she is now trapped in a cave with her jailers. But they have it all wrong. She isn't a spy, she’s just a healer on her way to her sick aunt. Escape is out of the question, and the legendary Lord of the Clans will believe her or execute her. He's huge, he's powerful and he has the power of life and death over all the tribes. But maybe she has it all wrong.
its claws into him? Her belly churned, spurred on by the workings of her suspicious mind. Dear Creators, how would she deal with being discarded, sent leagues away from him, and replaced by another whom he’d cherish for the rest of his life? How would she survive without the touch of his hands, the sound of his voice, and the feel of his steely gaze on her? No, she needed to focus, take some time to consider the problem, and get a grip on herself. Surely he couldn’t fall into such a blatant
her heart decreased. Yet she tensed as his face abruptly expressed comprehension and his voice softened to a throaty murmur. “You have no idea.” “No, but I’d love an explanation.” He ran his fingers through his shoulder-length hair, sunrays lighting the fair streaks. As he had a knack for sidestepping straight answers, she figured he’d use his ability once more. Incredibly, he didn’t. With the late afternoon sun bearing down on them, he cupped her face in his hands and looked her in the eye.
disturbing gaze? Beside her, his heavy coat brushed against her cloak. “There’s no war between us but the one you make.” What did that mean? Although positive she’d already figured out the answer, dwelling on his point of view didn’t appeal to her. She moved aside to grab the reins and let him know they’d better resume their journey. He took the hint and jumped on his horse without a word. The gray, cloudy afternoon wore on as they followed the narrow path between the cliff and the river. When
Kingdoms fantasized about. Mouth dry, she worked her brains to find an appropriate answer. “I didn’t know it was him.” “You do now. Well?” Unwilling to admit that the man’s beauty made her weak at the knees, she pretended to look around. “This is a nice place, isn’t it?” His half-grin disappeared. Ruffled by the coldness sneaking up his features, she moved toward a plain wooden desk with a chair on one side. Whatever he thought, she wouldn’t allow him to make fun of her. She'd been teased
felt like retching as smut seized her vital organs and flooded her blood, yet she clung to the hope of saving her people, of fulfilling the crucial role entrusted to her by the long dead Ancients, and of being worthy of Cameron’s faith in her. You were the sole, pitiful defence between me and my new playground filled with weak, terrorised humans. But you’re dying, creature, and your universe is mine to haunt and torture for as long as I wish. Even deep inside her, the Darkening could still